WARNING!: Micro/Macro, Demonic Possession, , Foot Fetish

The initial message I was writing started to get so long I'm breaking it up and placing the first part here in the Bio, so as not to bombard you with mountains upon mountains upon mountains of text in said initial message. Think of the following text as a prologue. You won't need it if you just want to get to the steppies/ , but it's there if you'd like more context to the story. Happy Halloween and enjoy~

Opening the door and walking inside, you're greeted with the cozy home of the tiger, Joshua Ramsey. "Buddy!" He calls, approaching you and wrapping his arms around you in a fierce bearhug. He pulls away and looks straight into you eyes. "I'm glad you came. The others are in the living room." He kisses your cheek, and leads you to where the others are situated. Josh has always been warm. He's like the big brother you never had, he's built like an athlete, meaning he's by far the strongest and fittest guy in your friend group, but you find it hard to imagine anyone more gentle than Josh.

Clive, the Racoon, is sat on the couch, doomscrolling on his cellphone, his favorite pastime. He looks up and gives you a nod and a "hey."

"Yo!" Your attention is drawn to Presley, a canary with banana yellow feathers, is sat on the other side of the couch, although he's sat across it horizontally, his legs on Clive's lap, which Clive doesn't mind, his elbows are propped on them like a table as he swipes through pawbook or whatever app he's using. The three of you met in collage. Clive and Presley are always together, they have something of a situationship you think, though nothing's ever been confirmed.

After sitting in the armchair across from them, Josh enters and places down on the low table, a can of beer each for the three of you, and one for himself. "Alright guys, happy Halloween, I've brought something I think the three of you might like." He ducks down and produces a thin box that had been propped up behind his armchair. He places it on the table and removes the lid. Inside is a square of wood. Polished and adorned with two arches of letters in block capitals, the top being A to M and the bottom being N to Z. The top left has the word 'yes' and the top right, 'no.'

Clive gives Josh an 'are you kidding me' look. "Josh. Is that a spirit board?"

Josh smiles "That's exactly what it is, Cli. We're going to try to contact the other side." He flips off the lightswitch, plunging the room into darkness lit only by the candles you're only noticing now, and Clive's phone screen.

"And this has nothing to do with John?" Clive says, frowning. Josh sighs and drops into his armchair. "Ok fine, I was tempted by the idea. But come on, it's not real right, magic? We can have some fun, and have some beers. We don't have to take it that seriously."

"Yeah Clive, we're all here, Josh has been preparing all week, we should at least give it a try." Presley says, in his cute, slightly high pitched voice." Clive grumbles, and takes a swig of his beer. You hear something along the lines of 'of course you fucking knew.' before* "Fine. But promise none of you will take this seriously. John is gone, and this won't bring him back. Got it?" Everybody nods in agreement. Josh smiles. You know how Josh smiles. This is the smile he uses to reassure other people, and to pretend he's ok. He's something of a de facto leader in your group. He's always the shoulder for other people to cry on, the guy who has it all together so you don't have to. But over time it's become clear he knows that's who he is, what he is to the rest of you. He reaches over and places his hand on the planchette.

The three of you have your hands on the planchette with Josh. Clive and Presley joining in, despite Clive's reluctance. There's quiet for a moment. Josh closes his eyes and starts speaking, his voice commanding the attention of the rest of you. "Are there any spirits in here with us? If there are, use our energy. Lets us understand you, let us speak."

The planchette moved underneath your fingers. Clive saying "Come on now." It moves to the part of the spirit board that said 'no.' The raccoon stares at Presley. "I felt you pulling." He scolds. the canary giggles, and Josh smirks. It's good that he's enjoying itself, even if it wasn't already clear why he's doing this. John was something of the fifth musketeer. A dork of a cat, sometimes clumsy, and your friend group had welcomed him in with open arms. Pretty soon the five of you were true amigos. You never did find out what happened to him. There was a missing person's report and everything, but he was around one day, and the next he was gone. Months passed and it's easy to feel like it's the worst case.

"If there is anyone in the room with is, anyone at all. Please! Move the planchette! We are open to whatever it is you have to say. Come on, talk to us!" Josh says, raising his voice. He can't exactly hold your hand with the closest hand to you on the planchette, so instead you feel his tail under the table curl around your leg. He probably doesn't even know he's doing it. He wants more than anything to have a chance to talk to John. The planchette starts to move. Not as forcefully as before, when Presley was moving it as a joke, but it slides until it stops on 'yes.'

"This is bullshit." Says Clive.

"Please, tell us your name!" Josh says, ignoring the raccoon.

'J... O... H... N...'

Presley gasped audibly and Clive rolled his eyes. Josh was staring at the spirit board intently.

"Oh my god, shit. Uh. John! Is that you? John Clark"

'Yes.'

The questions came rolling in, Clive stopped rolling his eyes and huffing and puffing, and Josh and Presley asked question after question, getting answers each time. Of course, you can imagine what Clive is thinking. This is just a psychology thing, we're moving the planchette subconsciously ourselves to the answers we want to hear.

'CAN I COME IN'

Contains: Micro/Macro, cruel macro, demonic possession of a friend, , foot fetish, mild(?) horror

Icons are AI generated